Music and people hold my life together. I describe experiences, discoveries and insights, often connected with music and with teaching and playing piano. The blog is a way to stay in touch with friends, and may also be food for thought for anyone else, especially people connected with music and the piano/
Musik und Menschen halten mein Leben zusammen. Ich beschreibe Erfahrungen, Entdeckungen und Einsichten, oft in Zusammenhang mit dem Klavierspiel und dem Klavierunterricht.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

It may not happen very often that you have good memories about an important audition. Among my best memories of performing is my piano audition at the Musikhochschule in Cologne, Germany - not only because I passed, but for the sheer joy of playing that I experienced on that occasion. Something interesting happened, when I wrote down the story: I reconnected with the feeling of that event, it stayed with me, and made me happy all day. It probably pays off to always carry a list of good memories with you.

Around the time of the audition, I was just taking the final exams for my degree in music education at the Musikhochschule in Cologne, but the last thing in the world I wanted to do was teach music at school. So, I applied for admission to pursue a degree in piano at the same institute.

On the day of the audition, the idea of teaching music in public school suddenly seemed not that unattractive after all. While I was waiting for my turn outside the auditorium, I tried to catch a glimpse through the sound proof glass doors, in order to figure out who the jury members were - they sat with their backs facing the entrance. A list with the names, ages and programs of the candidates for admission was posted on the door. It appeared more frightening every time I scanned it

The stakes were high, and my chances were slim. Everything that spoke against me was spinning through my head: I already had a degree in music education, and rumor had it that juries were advised to give preference to young students, admitting others only if their playing was absolutely convincing. My technique was shaky, which would be very evident in the Chopin, I wasn’t playing Bach from memory, and if they asked for the Mozart Fantasy in c-minor, I would have to pass on that one, because I had forgotten the beginning.

The weather was beautiful, and I imagined leaving the building through the front entrance, only a few steps away, opposite the auditorium, and taking a nice walk. Being able to breathe again appeared much more tempting than putting myself through the upcoming ordeal.

Out into the sunshine, or down into the pit - every time you chicken out for no other reason but capitulating before your own fear you set an example for yourself that could be the first step on a downslope. I sensed that, but I’m not sure what I would have done if it hadn’t been for friend who suddenly came along, appearing out of nowhere as if attracted by some energy that told her I was in need. She had passed the same auditions a semester earlier, and talking to her gave me a chance to pass the time, without driving myself crazy.

My turn came, and the person who called me in was friendly. I went to the row of seats that the jury occupied and announced my program. Then I descended towards the stage. I only knew it from choir performances, I had never had it to myself. As I sat down at the shiny black concert grand, everything else faded into the background. Adjusting the seat and placing the music on the music stand allowed me to create a small space that I alone inhabited.

The jury allowed me to choose the first piece, and I had never been so grateful for the score in front of me. I placed my hands on the keyboard, and the opening of the English Suite in g-minor brought me back to the present moment. When I played the first key, the sound rang back to me like nothing I had ever heard before. The notes of the theme sounded as clear as clear drops of water, hanging from a wire after the rain, glittering in the sunshine. The rich, warm sound of the piano rang out into the silence of the hall, and I was in tune with it.

The Suite was my favorite piece. My love of it had never faded throughout the long time of practicing, but playing it on this piano made it sound as if I heard it for the first time, and the enthusiasm of a first time encounter inspired my playing.

Never before had I played a concert grand, and never before had I heard anything this beautiful. The rhinoceros of an instrument that had looked so intimidating at first was a lamb that did everything I wanted.

Next, the jury requested Chopin. The audition lasted 10 minutes, and there was no time for three pieces! Infinitely relieved that I was spared Mozart, I tore into the waltz with much more confidence than my shaky technique justified - and the repeated notes that had always tripped me up bounced off the keyboard in a feast of musical joy. When I was told to stop before the end of the piece, I was almost disappointed.

Only much later did I discover the possible reason for having been spared the Mozart. I had told the Jury I was playing the Chopin Waltz in B-flat major. Even though the waltz starts with a series of repeated b-flats, it is in the key of E-flat major. There is no Waltz in B-flat major by Chopin, and my announcement had probably made the professors curious.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

“I’ve accepted so many people this year, and I don’t know how we’re going to manage,” said my friend Marcia Eckert the week before the camp started. “I believe I can make some time around the schedule of my private students,” I replied - and two days later, I was on my way NYC to teach at Teen Pianophoria! 15 young people between the ages of 10 and 16 gathered at Hunter College every day for two weeks to share one of their favorite activities: music and the piano.

The day usually started with announcements and yoga. Then everybody went off to their assigned rooms for a practice session, while the four teachers worked with individual students. Workshops and presentations were scheduled between the three practice sessions throughout the day. They covered a number of topics such as practicing, performing and coping with stage fright, piano literature, questions of technique and interpretation. There were classes in Eurythmics and Yoga, performance workshops and master classes, and, of course, a concert on the last day of the camp.

The music only came to rest when we went for lunch. During the other breaks, someone was always at the piano in the “common room”; improvising, presenting a medley of themes from Beethoven Sonatas, transforming a Chopin Ballade into a Ragtime, or setting off a round of “Find that note, chord or cluster,” a game especially favored by the people with perfect pitch.

Working on their repertoire with a different teacher each day was an interesting experience for the students and the teachers. For the students, it sometimes meant digesting conflicting suggestions. For the teachers, it often provided food for discussion, and as a private teacher, I greatly welcomed the chance to exchange views with colleagues.

Over time, I got a chance to work with most students at the camp. While the level of playing covered a wide range from late elementary to advanced, the level of accomplishment during these two weeks was excellent throughout, true to the goal of the camp: “to provide the opportunity for each student to thrive in a positive, inclusive and inspiring environment where all strive for excellence and have fun in the process.”

The final concert featured 1 1/2 hours of great playing. Each student played solo and performed as member of a duet. (Excerpts will be posted on the website.) Having worked with the students during those two weeks had given me a chance to see the pieces grow. It was amazing what those young people accomplished within that short period of time, and we teachers often marveled at their ability to learn so fast. Sometimes, I wonder whether it’s only their young brains that work at faster speeds, or whether it’s also their ability to be in the moment, put everything else aside and focus completely on what they are doing, while our “adult” brains are sometimes clouded up with so much other stuff that the music has a difficult stand against it. The enthusiasm of those young people was an inspiration I took it with me back to my own practicing after the two weeks of the camp.

The way to the bus station led me across Central Park one day, and at “Tavern on the Green” I found this contraption. In fact, at first I could only see the pipes on the top, and I thought they must have acquired a new grill, but then I heard the sounds of a piano, and that made me curious.

Pip, the red tailed hawk, who had hatched on a window sill on the 12th floor of the NYU library and fledged on June 23rd, (the New York Times followed the story) - was having dinner on the lawn. How did you know it was Pip ? The tail wasn’t fully developed and there weren’t any red feathers yet, either, one of her fans instructed us.

The Open Sings are a great chance to get to know a variety of famous works from the choral repertory. They are held on Monday evenings at 7:30 at Judd Memorial Church at Washington Square. There’s a different director each time,a different work, and different people, and it’s amazing how it all works out. Music - and animals - do draw people together.